A part of me will always want to cling to my youth. Pieces of the 10 year old girl I once was, will always remain the same. I never want to lose my enthusiasm for life. I hope when I'm 90 years old, that roses will still be as beautiful as they were when I was 8. I never want to care any less about things. I can't believe in 6 months or so, i'l be 17. I still remember so vividly my 10th birthday party. I remember the decorations that hung, and the games we played. I don't want to forget the way I use to play "make-believe."
When I was 12, I remember staying up late with my girl friends dreaming and planning our lives as adults. It felt as if I couldn't get old fast enough.
Now, here I am. Applying for my first job. Raising my first child. Saving up every penny I get, and studying for college. As I cross over to adult-hood I can't help but to feel scared, yet terribly excited.
I will always cherish and sometimes wish I could go back to the time when I sat warm and snuggled in my Grandpas lap. I am so scared I'll forget the way it felt to be cradled.. But, I look forward to building a home and memories for my little guy. It's quite mind boggling to think that this is my life, and I can make it however I please.
I'm growing up.. and it's bitter sweet.